For Our Protection
by LittleMissAmbiguous
Summary: Seven teenagers who brought about the downfall of Voldemort seek protection from the Death Eaters in the small town of Lima, Ohio. Meanwhile, the Glee Club prepares for the state's annual Christmas Sing-Off. Main characters: Kurt, Draco, Hermione, Rachel.
1. The Burrow

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Harry Potter, and I'm actually glad I don't. If I did, writing fanfics wouldn't be any fun. This story is set after the Glee kids win sectionals in November. Voldemort died a few months ago, in June. Other than the fact that these events take place in 2009 and 1997 respectively, I will try to keep this as canon as possible so that the Harry Potter epilogue can take place as planned. That doesn't mean I'm not going to go crazy with this. **

~*~*~*~

Every workday was a strain for Emma. Not that she didn't enjoy her job. She liked helping children, especially the ones in Glee club. Her heart started beating faster every time she walked down to the chorus room, where she was now the co-head of Glee. She loved the rush of happiness she felt whenever she opened the door and the love of her life, William Schuester, smiled back at her. School was the only place she could see Will for now – his wife had asked him not to "officially begin" his relationship with Emma until after the divorce was finalized – so she wouldn't give up that hour and a half after school for anything.

Still, it was annoying to have to clean everything by hand or by toothbrush, and she was always relieved when she arrived home and was able to whip out her wand instead. Here, she didn't need to keep any secrets, or use a ridiculous last name like Pillsbury so the Death Eaters wouldn't find her. At home, she was allowed to be herself, one hundred percent – Emma Weasley.

Emma had just received her PhD as a Doctor of Muggleology. She had always been fascinated with the Muggle world and their ability to solve problems without magic. For centuries, doctors of muggleology had been scouting the Muggle world, searching for Muggle technology that could be reproduced with magic. Usually the magical versions were a bit primitive, like the radio, but Emma hoped to be the first to reproduce a modern technological device. At first, she had been unsure. She had been thinking about computers for a while, but had finally decided they were much too complicated. However, her recent introduction to Muggle music had finally inspired her – the iPod.

A love of Muggles ran in the family.

~*~*~*~

Emma walked in the door, pulled out her wand, and pointed it at herself.

"Tergeo!" Instantly, every germ and speck of dirt was siphoned off her body. Humming her favorite Muggle song, "I Could Have Danced All Night," she walked into the kitchen, snapped on a pair of plastic gloves, and began to make a PB&J. She was interrupted by a tapping on her window. She turned around and recognized Pigwideon, her little cousin Ron's owl. She couldn't let him into the house – he had just flown from England and was covered in germs – but, after summoning the letter, she brought a bowl of water and owl treats outside and let him catch his breath. As Pig gobbled up his owl treats, Emma opened her letter. It was not, in fact, from Ron, but rather from his mother. It read:

_Dear Emma,_

_I'm so sorry to trouble you like this, but I desperately need your help. See, there are seven teenagers that need to leave the continent as soon as possible. They all played a huge part in bringing about You-Know-Who's death, and they need to stay safe from the Death Eaters. They've been hiding primarily in Europe, but it hasn't been working, and the Death Eaters would never think to look for them at a Muggle school in the United States. There are two of my own children, two who I consider my children, two close family friends, and one who I absolutely cannot stand, but who has to be included in the group for his own safety. Come to the Burrow immediately, please._

_-Auntie Molly_

Emma closed her eyes, and stepped into darkness. When she recovered from the vacuuming feel of Apparation, she found herself in the quaint little house where she had spent all her childhood summers. She smiled at her aunt.

"Of course they can stay, but I can't keep them all in my house, only Ron and Ginny. Oh, and they will have to join the Glee club so I can keep an eye on them, okay?"

Molly merely smiled, then shouted through the door, "Time to go!"

There was a clattering on the staircase, and six children appeared. Leading the group were Ron, a gangly redheaded boy with freckles sprayed across his nose, and his sister Ginny, a seventeen-year-old beauty with deep auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes. Holding Ginny's hand was a skinny boy with messy black hair, green eyes, and – yes, there was the scar. Ron had his arm around an extraordinarily average-looking girl with bushy brown hair and a big smile. Standing slightly behind was a strange looking girl whose waist-length dirty blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and blonde eyebrows gave her a perpetually surprised look. Next to the surprised girl was a rather tall and extremely nerdy looking boy. Ron and Ginny ran forward with huge grins on their faces and started interrogating her about her summer. After they had calmed down, the bushy-haired girl strode forward and offered her hand. Emma automatically shied back. The girl looked offended. Ron stepped in to smooth the situation.

"Oh, it's not you, Herms. She's quite a germaphobe. She doesn't really like being touched."

The girl looked reassured and introduced herself. "Hi, Emma, I'm Hermione Granger." Not knowing what to do, she did an odd sort of curtsy and backed away, looking embarrassed. Emma looked at the black-haired boy. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

Harry smirked. "Good observation. Nice to meet you."

The blonde girl bounded up to Emma, her blue eyes unblinking and wide as saucers, somewhat like Emma's own.

"You know, if you don't like being touched, it's probably the fault of the Xlingfering Minkeys. They create invisible force fields out of peoples' auras, so people obviously become very uncomfortable when those force fields are broken."

Emma laughed. "You must be Luna. Ron told me about you."

Luna nodded seriously. "I expect he would. He thinks I'm very strange, you know. I make for polite dinner conversation."

Emma didn't really know what to say to that. Luckily, she was spared the necessity of answering by the nerdy boy. He came up and introduced himself as Neville.

"Okay, everyone, let's get ready to apparate!" Emma turned around, and then paused. "Where's the seventh?"

Ginny wordlessly pointed upstairs. Emma looked at her uncertainly, and then started climbing. The door on the third floor landing was open. She walked in to find a breathtakingly handsome – but incredibly surly – blond boy lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Without even looking at her, he said, "I'm not going."

"Why not?"

The blond swung himself up and looked at Emma in disbelief. "Why not? This is why not!" He rolled up his left sleeve and held out his arm to her. It was branded with a black tattoo… a skull with a serpentine tongue.

Emma gasped. "Is that… "

He unrolled his sleeve, looking disgusted. "Of course it is. I'm a Malfoy. I'm no prissy like Potter and his gang. Just because I changed sides to save my own sorry skin during the war, the Death Eaters want me dead." He threw a random punch into the air. "And now, no matter where I go, this stupid Dark Mark provides a link for those _stupid _Death Eaters to find me and these STUPID people I have to associate with! You realize I have to _rely_ on Potter for protection now. I won't have it anymore. I'm not going and that's final." He crossed his arms and stared out the window. "Besides," he said his voice a lot softer. "I wouldn't want those guys to get killed just for harboring a traitor in their midst." His voice cracked, and Emma, despite the fact that this boy probably hadn't taken a shower in three days, felt an urge to physically comfort him somehow. Instead, she let him cry. When he was all done, she said gently, "I think we'll be able to handle ourselves. Your power will be hidden by all the non-magic of the Muggles, and should my services provide necessary, Defense Against the Dark Arts was my second best subject behind Muggle Studies. If we _are_ attacked, we'll need your expertise in spell casting. Besides, you won't be living with the other six. I'll be finding separate places for all of you to stay."

Malfoy looked up. "I guess I _could_ come… If you really _needed_ me to…"

"There's just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Are you a good singer?"


	2. New Blood for New Directions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Harry Potter. In case you are unfamiliar with any of the songs mentioned in the chapter, I have provided the links here:**

**Go the Distance - www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=VdUxitQQPMw**

**Do the Hippogriff - ****www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=rQMY-emlcC4**

**Keep Your Mind Wide Open - www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=hfV6XcULHN8**

**Double, Double, Toil and Trouble - www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=f_OEtmM9xf8**

**Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=zhdTpeegBZk**

**If You Could be Anywhere – www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=3ys37GGhR_8&NR=1 **

**On My Own – www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=1bWRlUFQSo4**

~*~*~*~

They all had to spend the first night at Emma's house. The girls stayed in Emma's room and the boys stayed in the guest room.

The next day was their first day at William McKinley. Emma, Hermione, and Harry had carefully explained to the others everything they needed to know about Muggles, and Emma felt confident that they could pass… as long as Ron stayed next to Hermione and kept his mouth shut.

Ron, despite his family's love for Muggles, knew absolutely nothing about them. When Principal Figgins warned them about using cell phones in class, Ron asked him what that was. While Figgins looked at him in disbelief and Harry, Hermione, and Emma looked at him in horror, he stammered out, "En-England's pretty far away."

All day in class, he kept his mouth shut. He was anti-social to everyone who spoke to him, not wanting to embarrass himself again. He was secretly dreading the afternoon, because Emma had decreed that in order to keep a closer eye on the seven teenagers, they needed to join the Glee club.

Ron couldn't sing for his life.

Hermione was actually rather enjoying herself. Because she wanted to stay up-to-date on Muggle subjects as well as the courses offered at Hogwarts, she had been secretly taking math, English, Spanish, science, and Latin in correspondence courses. She fell right into place in her first period – Spanish – and became the star of the class in no time. Unlike Ron, she was looking forward to the afternoon. There was another secret she had always kept from her best friends… she was actually an amazing singer.

3:00 came, and the seven teenagers met outside the choir room, which Emma had pointed out to them earlier. Neville leaned forward and hesitantly opened the door. Emma herded them in and called for attention.

"These students are exchange students from an English boarding school. They have all shown interest in joining the Glee club. I hope you will be kind to them, as this is a very new sort of environment for most of them."

"That's great, Emma," Mr. Schuester said, "but they still need to audition properly. Let's go down to the auditorium."

~*~*~*~

The nineteen teenagers and two adults crowded into the first two rows of the auditorium. None of the Hogwarts kids wanted to go first. In the end, Harry summoned up his Gryffindor bravery and strode confidently to the middle of the stage.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter, and I'll be singing 'Go the Distance' from Hercules." Mrs. Figg used to love showing Disney movies to Harry while she fed the cats, and this song had always reminded him of how he felt the moment he arrived at Hogwarts. Perhaps he didn't have very much power in his voice, but he was able to muster up enough at the end to impress Mr. Schuester. As he sat down next to Ron, Ron leaned over and whispered, "I didn't know you could sing!"

"Neither did I," said Harry. "Now get up there!"

Ron nervously took center stage. "Hello, I'm Ron Weasley, and I'll be singing 'Do the Hippogriff' by the Weird Sisters." He smirked, and added, "a band I'm sure you've never heard of."

Ron had chosen this song mainly because it was the only song that he sounded remotely good singing. He had, of course, forgotten that Muggles did not know that the creatures in the song were real, and when he finished singing, he was greeted with confused and half-hearted clapping from the Glee club members and a standing ovation from the wizards. "It's, um… it's a very British song," he said awkwardly, and sat down.

Luna Lovegood stood up, took the microphone from Mr. Schuester, and stared at him for a few seconds, then went to stand in the middle of the stage. She held up the microphone and spoke into it. "Hello? Oh. This makes my voice louder. How interesting. My name is Luna Lovegood and I am going to be singing 'Keep Your Mind Wide Open' by AnnaSophia Rob. " She looked around the room at everyone and started to sing.

Luna had a pretty, if undeveloped voice. Last night, Hermione had shown her this song on her iPod, claiming it reminded her of Luna. Luna immediately committed the song to memory to hum to the Crumple-Horned Snorcack, as its gentle yet modern melody was similar to the Snorcack mating call and would make it easier to find. She sang unaccompanied, and her soft soprano voice filled the auditorium. She could see that Mr. Schuester was impressed, but she didn't see the smile on the face of the tall Asian boy sitting at the end of the second row. When she finished singing, she happily skipped back to her seat next to Ginny.

Next up was Neville Longbottom. He didn't seem extremely comfortable with the situation as he introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Neville Longbottom…"

A boy in the audience with a black mowhawk sniggered and was elbowed in the ribs by the pretty, and quite obviously pregnant, girl sitting next to him. Neville closed his eyes and went on.

"I'm Neville Longbottom and I will be singing 'Double, Double, Toil and Trouble'"

This song generated confused expressions from all but one of the American students. A small brown-haired boy wearing a designer hat and shirt seemed to recognize the lyrics from Macbeth, and once he figured out no one else did, started looking superior. The boy winked at Neville as if they were sharing an inside joke. Neville decided to sit down, rather than return the gesture.

As Neville relaxed into his seat, Ginny Weasley swept up the steps onto the stage and tossed her hair. Her long, auburn hair caught the light and shimmered, and her brown eyes were like pools of chocolate, silently mocking the audience. Neville leaned over and watched the Glee kids' reactions. New interest had sparked in the eye of every boy except Mr. Designer Hat. He looked as jealous as all the girls did.

Ginny's clear and confident voice rang through the auditorium. "My name is Ginny Weasley, and I'm singing 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' by Cindy Lauper."

This song had also been hijacked from Hermione's iPod last night. Ginny had a pleasant voice, but it wasn't anything special, and nowhere near as good as Luna's was. That didn't change the fact that she got a standing ovation from all the guys in Glee club.

Draco Malfoy was next. He glared at Emma for a few moments, as if to say _What did you get me into?_,and announced his song. "I'm Draco Malfoy, and I'm singing "If You Could Be Anywhere" by Tom Felton [Hee, hee. I couldn't help it.]"

This song had also been found on Hermione's iPod, and Draco's reason for singing it was very simple: in his opinion, it was the least horrible male song she had. Hermione was into show tunes, and he just couldn't bring himself to sing anything from Hairspray. Draco had a surprisingly good voice, especially for that style of singing, and none of the other Hogwarts kids could get over the irony of Malfoy singing a cheerful love song.

Hermione was last. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm going to be singing 'On My Own' from Les Miserables." When she started singing, every jaw dropped to the floor. Everyone was sure they had never heard such a powerful, beautiful voice before in their life. Everyone had goose bumps on their arms. The only person not in awe was a small, black-haired girl named Rachel Berry. Rachel was fuming. This was HER song. She could tell this little bushy-haired Brit was better than she was, and she was stealing her thunder. She had learned to accept it when the other girls in Glee club got solos, because it was still understood that she was the star. Rachel wasn't about to let anyone else steal the crown, especially this new girl. But how to go about keeping her throne?

_Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer._

As Rachel was scheming, Hermione was finishing her song. She was greeted by a standing ovation, not like Ginny's or Ron's, but a real one. She ran blissfully off stage, where Ron greeted her with a kiss.

"That was absolutely amazing! Where did you get that voice?" he asked over the din.

"Do you want the scientific answer?" she joked back.

He was prevented from answering (a most emphatic no) by Mr. Schuester calling for silence.

"All right, you're all in."

"Even me?" Ron called out.

Mr. Schuester laughed. "Yes, even you. That's it for today, so everyone be in the choir room at 3:30 tomorrow."

As the students filed out of the auditorium, Rachel bounded over to Hermione. "You're Hermione, right? You're really, really talented. I would know, because I'm talented too. Would you want to come to my house after school to practice a duet or something? Who are you staying with? I'm Rachel Berry, by the way."

Hermione was a bit unsettled by the attention, but perfectly willing to be friendly. "I'd love to come over. I'm actually not staying anywhere right now, Em – I mean, Ms. Pillsbury – was going to find us all somewhere to live by the end of the week."

_Perfect_, thought Rachel. "Well, why not come stay at my house? My dads will be fine with it."

"Sure," said Hermione. This girl seemed friendly enough, and it would be a relief to have a roommate who actually appreciated show tunes, or even knew what they were. "Yeah, that'd be great."

_Perfect_, thought Rachel.

~*~*~*~

**Ooh, evil right? I don't really hate Rachel, but I do believe she would stop at nothing to stay in the spotlight, and maybe I'm making her too evil in an attempt to create internal tension. :) Please review! Not going to force you to, but it is nice to get feedback.**


	3. Author's Note

Hey guys! Sorry I wasn't able to update this story, even though I know you love it so. My computer (with all my notes on it) crashed, and we just got the files back – unfortunately (for the story, not for me!) I'll be leaving for my summer camp tomorrow, and I won't be back for 2 months. When I get back, expect more in For Our Protection!


	4. Mr and Mr Berry

**Sorry I haven't posted in a while! Life is busy. This is a REALLY short chapter, but have no fear! The next one is not. **

After school, Hermione dropped by Emma's house to get her things. She had already packed her wand, her iPod, eight shirts, two sweaters, a pair of jeans, a toothbrush, and a few twenty-pound books into her miniscule handbag, when Harry hesitantly opened the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure"

Harry seated himself awkwardly on the edge of Emma's bed and stared at the ground. Hermione stopped her packing and looked at her best friend, mildly concerned.

"Yes?"

Harry scratched his head and looked up at Hermione.

"I was only wondering…"

He paused. Hermione tilted her head, prompting him to go on.

"I was wondering if you would take my cloak. For safekeeping. You know."

He said this altogether too quickly, as if he was trying to get something over with.

Hermione burst into laughter. "Is that all? Why the awkwardness?" She punched him on the shoulder. "By this point, you know I'd do anything for you. I think I can manage a Deathly Hallow."

Ron walked in and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist.

"Hey guys, I've got something to show you. Come on"

Hermione and Ron walked out, arm in arm. Harry stared wistfully at Hermione. What he had _meant_ to ask her was whether she would help him propose to Ginny… but he couldn't bring himself to admit to anyone else just how much he loved her. Not yet. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and walked into Emma's living room.

Draco Malfoy wasn't really paying attention as Ron started talking. All he could think about was a pair of bright green eyes … only he didn't know whose they were. He thought back to his audition. The audience had been in semi-darkness, and he couldn't really see anyone's face. He had been a bit nervous, looking anywhere but at Mr. Schuester, when two bright green lights in the audience had caught his attention. He had seen green eyes before – Harry Potter had green eyes – but never of such mocking intelligence. He hadn't needed to see the rest of the face to know that it was silently laughing at his stage fright, but pitying him at the same time. The twinkle in those eyes had captivated him. He glanced around the room quickly. The eyes didn't belong to anyone from Hogwarts, that was for sure. He hadn't really looked at any of the kids from William McKinley, though. He resolved that the very next day, he would find the girl (for it had to be a girl, no guy could have eyes that compelling) and blast her full on with his bad-boy charm.

"Malfoy!"

He shook his head and came back to the real world. Weasley was glaring at him, a collection of leather cord necklaces in his hands. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, _Weaslebee_? Running a jewelry shop, are we?"

Ron ignored the insult. "Are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

Malfoy leaned back, smiling, and rested his head in his hands. "Nope," he said, putting the emphasis on the P.

"I was _saying_," said Ron through his teeth, "that my brother George manufactured a new item for us. They've got the same concept as the Galleons we used for the D.A." He nodded to Hermione, giving credit where it was due. "These necklaces have a button on the back. When pushed, they will send a distress signal to any people with matching necklaces, no matter how far away. All of us are going to wear one and all of the surviving members of the D.A. and Order of the Phoenix have them. In case the Death Eaters come, we can send our friends a distress signal and they'll be able to help us."

"I want a pink one!" cried Ginny, still a little girl sometimes.

"I get green," Malfoy said, thinking not of Slytherin, but of his mystery woman's eyes.

"I don't care what color I get, as color is only an illusion provided by the Valistiwagical Mosters," Luna stated matter-of-factly.

There was a long pause.

"They're all red," Ron said, to break the silence.

Hermione knew when she was at Rachel's house because the house next door sported a sign saying: CAUTION: DOGS BARK AND BITE WHEN GIRL NEXT DOOR STARTS SINGING. Hermione thought this was a bit cruel because Rachel was in fact singing at that very moment, and the dogs were asleep. Concentrating on Rachel's voice, Hermione realized _Wow. She's good._

She walked nervously up to the door and knocked. It swung open. Standing in the doorway was a man, probably in his late forties. He was tall, with skin the color of chocolate and hazel eyes. The moment he saw her, he smiled, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth.

"You must be Hermione! I'm Martin, Rachel's Dad. Come in, come in!" He hustled her in the door.

"You're English." she noted, surprised.

"Yes, I've been in this country for…. what, about eighteen years now? That sounds about right. No luggage?"

Hermione cursed herself for forgetting to keep up appearances. "No luggage."

"Oh, well I suppose you left it at Miss Pillsbury's. How long are you staying in the country?"

"I don't know yet. It's a bit shaky, the dates. But I hope I won't be stepping on your hospitality for too long. If it turns out I'm staying for a while, I'll ask to be relocated."

"Oh no, that's fine! Joshua and I aren't expecting any company until June."

"Who's Joshua?"

"Rachel's father."

"But I thought you said—"

At that moment, they arrived in the kitchen, where Rachel was sitting at the table with a man that looked exactly like her, with dark brown hair, glasses, and a rather large nose. They were singing a duet together, and they sounded amazing. This, despite Hermione's prior confusion, was obviously Rachel's father. Rachel looked at the door and broke off.

"Dad! You met Hermione!"

She ran up and hugged Martin, then Hermione. She let go of Hermione, then pulled her over to the man at the table.

"Papa, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is my Papa, Joshua."

This was too much.

"I'm sorry if this seems rude, but Rachel, which one is your father?"

"Oh! I forgot to explain. They both are. I have two dads. I'm a daddy's girl."

"I see."

There was a strange pause.

"That doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?" Joshua asked. "I know some people aren't really used to the idea—"

"Oh no, I was just surprised, that's all!" Hermione said, hastily. "One of the most amazing and special men I ever knew was gay. His name was Albus Dumbledore, and he was the headmaster at my school."

"Albus… Dumbledore?" Martin asked, bewildered.

"Yes, it's a funny name, isn't it?" Hermione laughed.

"No, no, it's just that…" Martin chose his words carefully. "It's just that Albus Dumbledore taught at _my_ school as well." He gave Hermione a special look. She cleared her throat, realizing what this meant.

"Really?"

He gave her a long look. "Let me guess… Ravenclaw?"

"Gryffindor."

"Same."

They stared at each other, unspeaking, for a few moments, both taking in what this meant about the other. After a few seconds, Rachel, upset not to be the center of attention, decided to break the silence.

"I'm going to go show Hermione my room. It's an important thing for a young woman to know what her room looks like. Your room is lovely. Come on, Hermione!"

She grabbed Hermione's arm determinedly and marched her up the staircase. Martin looked after them.

"You alright?" his partner asked.

Martin shrugged. "I just didn't know Dumbledore was gay."

**HaHA! The plot thickens! Please forgive the wait, and Chapter 4 is approaching!**


	5. Mingling

**Yay! Another chapter! Sorry it took so long, I re-outlined the entire story. Also, just warning, I've realized that there might be week- or month- long gaps between each chapter because high school is a lot more work than I expected it to be.**

**Enjoy! **

**Btw, I know that the Christmas songs are done in Season 2, but that doesn't mean they can't already have performed them! It would also explain how they know them so well on such a short notice. (Even though in the Gleeniverse, they need no notice at all to sing a song perfectly)**

Yesterday at lunch, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had all sat together, the weird new kids, while Malfoy had Apparated to some high-class café in New York City. Today, however, they were supposed to be making friends.

"If you don't make friends," Emma had preached last night, in full guidance counselor mode, "then you will never be able to form great friendships."

_Yeah, right,_ Malfoy had thought. _Who needs friends, anyway? They only go and get themselves killed, and then you end up caring. Stupid, really._

Despite Malfoy's reluctance, they had all promised they would try to make a friend by the end of the day. After all, Hermione was the only one who had a place to stay so far, and Emma's house was starting to seem very small to the seven people sharing it. So for Harry, Neville, Luna, and Malfoy, Operation Find-a-House would begin today at lunch.

As soon as the seven teenagers entered the cafeteria, Hermione was waved over to a small table near the window. The table had five seats, two of which were occupied by the Glee club's biggest "item" right now—Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson. Harry, Ron, and Hermione plopped down in the remaining three. What the other kids jokingly referred to as Malfoy's "evil radar" immediately zoomed in on the obvious Bad Couple of the club – Noah Puckerman and his pregnant girlfriend, Quinn. Sliding himself into the chair next to Puck, Malfoy gave Quinn his signature smirk, the one that made even Hermione curl her toes in girlish delight on the rare occasion he sent it her way. This left Ginny, Neville, and Luna standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafeteria. After a few visual circulations, Luna spotted some familiar faces from Glee Club – the Asian girl, the boy in the wheelchair, and the duo that looked like they had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Skipping over to their table with Neville and Ginny hurrying along in her wake, she plopped herself down to the Asian girl and proceeded to stare at her unblinkingly for ten long seconds.

"Your hair is purple," Luna finally commented, her eyes wide as the plate on her lunch tray. The other girl looked up and started, noticing her observer for the first time. Luna added, "That's not normal."

The other girl frowned, seeming unsure whether this person was an accurate judge of _normal_. Taking this silence as an invitation to continue, Luna pressed on.

"It's probably the fault of the Philiphandering ColorChangers. They crawl in your ears after you eat broccoli and change the colors of various parts of your body. Be lucky it was only your hair! Last time it happened to me, my face turned red for two weeks. This girl Lavender Brown said it was only sunburn, but…" She leaned forward and whispered, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to voice the thought out loud. "She's not… she's not very _smart_."

"Right…" The girl looked at her friends for help, but they were biting their lips, suppressing laughter. "Um… what's your name?"

"I'm Luna!" she replied, sticking her hand out.

"I'm Tina," the girl said, uncertainly placing her hand in Luna's. Luna shook it firmly, then smiled. Tina relaxed and laughed. Seeing that they had smoothed over the potential issue, Ginny took initiative and introduced herself and Neville. The other three Glee Club kids returned the favor, naming themselves as Artie, Kurt, and Mercedes. After another awkward pause where everyone stared at their trays for a minute, Kurt raised his green eyes to meet Ginny's brown.

"I love your sweater. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, my mother knitted it! She knits sweaters for all seven of us and our best friends at Christmas every year, but mine are always the nicest." She grinned. "I'm her only daughter, so I think she takes special pride in mine. I've never had to buy a sweater."

"Does that mean I have to get on your good side to get one of those?" Mercedes asked, a beautiful smile spreading across her face.

Kurt became serious, all business when it came to fashion. "Let's do an experiment. Come to the mall with us after school. We'll get you some sweaters at the mall, then you tell us which ones hold up better over the winter – the homemade ones or the store bought ones. Deal?"

Ginny grinned. "Deal."

Artie cut in awkwardly, raising his half-gloved hand. "Isn't it a bit useless to buy sweaters when she already has perfectly good ones at home that she doesn't have to pay for?"

Kurt gave him a disdainful look. "I'm sure it doesn't make much sense to someone who tucks his sweater vests into his pants."

Artie sat back, feeling shut down. Neville caught his eye.

"It's all right. I have no clue what Ginny is talking about sometimes." He looked over to where Mercedes was now showing Ginny the wonder that is TeenVogue. Shaking his head, he turned back to Artie. "I don't think it matters what a person wears, so long as they keep clean and have a good personality. Besides, isn't fashion supposed to be about expressing yourself? So if expressing yourself means tucking sweater vests into your pants, isn't it fashionable to tuck your sweater vests into your pants? And wouldn't following trends mean you have an un-unique personality?"

Artie laughed at Neville's logic. He knew instinctively it couldn't possibly be correct, but he couldn't find any flaws in it. It certainly made him feel a lot better.

"I guess so. Hey, where are you staying?"

"Nowhere yet. Ginny's staying with her aunt, Ms. Pillsbury, but Luna and I need to find permanent temporary families… if that makes sense."

"Well… I mean, you can stay with me!" Artie suggested. "And I don't know about Luna, but—"

"I'll take her," cut in Tina, who had just been listening to a lecture on the biological structure of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Unlike many people, she seemed to realize that Luna was simply open-minded and eccentric, not crazy, and was willing to put up with this for a whole term. In fact, she was looking forward to the possibility.

"Wait—" Kurt cut in. "Ginny, you have somewhere to stay?" She replied in the affirmative, and he lowered his eyes, disappointed.

"—and so then the kicker comes out. If you had been able to come to one of our games, you would see that our kicker likes to dance to Beyonce, but that's not standard procedure. Have you really never watched a game of football?" Finn asked, incredulous.

"We don't really have it in England," Ron answered, more truthfully than he knew.

"Well, don't you have, like, rugby or something?"

"At our school, we play something called Quidditch. It's pretty much exclusive to us. We have four teams within the school, so we don't need to involve other schools." Harry explained.

"And how does that work?"

"Well… there's a ball called the Quaffle, and the three Chasers… run… around and pass it to each other and try to score… And then there's the Keeper… That's Ron… They protect the goal hoops, which are kind of like basketball hoops except vertical. The Beaters try to incapacitate all the players on the other team and protect our players from getting hurt."

"By tackling? Like in football?"

"Sort of. But they get to carry clubs. And then there's the Seeker. That's me. It's a bit hard to explain my job, but I'm basically the quarterback. The rest of the team kind of depends on me to win the game."

"It's just like American football really… pointless, confusing, crowd drawing, and mildly entertaining when you have nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon," Hermione said, with a wry smile, earning strong protests from Harry, Ron, and Finn. She relaxed into a real smile, letting them know she was joking. Catching on, they all leaned back and chuckled.

"Honestly though, 'Mione probably only comes to the games because her best friend is the Captain and her boyfriend is the Keeper. Other than that, it holds no interest for her whatsoever," Ron admitted.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you!" Rachel cried. "Going to the games to support your boyfriend and your best friend is a wonderful way to show support in both relationships! Isn't it convenient that they're both on the same team, so you don't have to choose? If I had to choose between Finn and… and… Well, anyway, that's really nice of you!" She finished off with a wide, overdone smile.

The others exchanged glances, unsure how to react to Rachel's overdone praise. She plowed on, unaware of the three boys.

"I'm going to get more salad. Do you want anything, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head, and Rachel strutted off to the salad bar, pushing her way through the crowds of people taller than her.

Finn looked back at his friends with a worried expression.

"I swear, she's not usually … _that_ weird."

Ron nodded, staring after her as she carefully placed the croutons onto her salad.

"So anyway, where are you staying? I mean, I know Hermione's with Rachel, and Ron's with Ms. Pillsbury, but what about you, Harry?"

"Nowhere yet," Harry shrugged.

Finn smiled. "Perfect."

Everyone sitting at the table was silent. Quinn was eyeing Malfoy, the longing in her eyes obvious to even the most dim-witted observer. Puck was taking turns looking at Quinn in despair, or glaring at Malfoy with daggers in his eyes. Malfoy was staring at his plate, unable to believe the kind of crap they were making him eat. He was a Malfoy! That was practically wizarding royalty! Who dared to give him this kind of food?

They spent the entire meal this way, eyeing, staring, glaring, and not speaking a word.

At three o'clock that afternoon, nineteen teenagers and two adults crowded into the choir room, which was suddenly much smaller than it used to be. It took a full five minutes for Mr. Schuester to calm the class down.

"Guys! Guys! Listen up. Carmel High, home of Vocal Adrenaline, is hosting a Christmas competition. I've already signed us up. We'll be one of five groups competing, and the winners… get to perform live on the local news!"

There was excited muttering from the group at this. Mr. Schuester walked around the class, handing out sheet music.

Now, each group performs 1-2 group numbers, as well as a solo or duet. I've picked out the song already. We're going to do "Welcome Christmas" from The Grinch who Stole Christmas as our group number, and "Baby, It's Cold Outside," for the duet."

"Oh, perfect!," said Rachel, squeezing Finn's hand and giving Mr. Schuester her best _we've-got-this_ smile. "That's one of my favorite wintertime songs. It's a great example of a … conversational duet."

Mr. Schuester smiled back at Rachel, preparing himself for the vocal lava she was about to spew. He knew Rachel was expecting that she and Finn would get the duet, but he had to admit, the couple's talent paled in comparison to that of…

"Draco, Hermione, you think you got this?"

Rachel's jaw dropped in indignation as Hermione smiled widely.

"Sure! I love this song!"

Malfoy shrugged. "I guess so. Never heard of it, but what the heck?" He gave a sort of half-smile. "Might as well."

"Great!" said Mr. Schuester. "Let's see what you can do."


	6. A Deathly Proposition

**Originally I said this took place the year after Voldemort died. It actually takes place two years after, so Ginny and Luna have just left their seventh year at Hogwarts. I didn't consider the young'uns. **

The members of New Directions left the choir room, chattering excitedly. Malfoy found himself walking alongside Ginny Weasley. _Oh, why not be friendly_, he thought. _I'm stuck here anyway._

"I'm starting to think I should get myself one of those Pod-eye things. You know, to practice with."

The she-Weasel laughed. "It's called an iPod. I'm sure there's a Mac store at the mall. I'm going with Kurt and Mercedes, come on!"

She grabbed his right arm and pulled him out to the parking lot, where a shiny black car was waiting. She bounced into the back seat. He followed suspiciously, feeling like she was kidnapping him.

"Who's this?" asked the boy driving.

"Draco Malfoy," the Weasel-girl answered. "He wants to get an iPod."

The girl in the shotgun seat turned around. "The boy can talk, can't he?" She reached her hand out and flashed a winning smile. "I'm Mercedes Jones."

They drove to the mall, the three others discussing things Malfoy didn't care about while he cursing himself for getting into this situation. When they finally arrived, he jumped out of the car, glad to get some fresh air. Cars made him claustrophobic – it felt like Apparation, but over a long period of time. The driver's door slammed shut.

"Hey, I'm Kurt Hummel. We didn't really get a chance to meet properly while I was driving. It's Draco, right?" The voice was unbearably cheerful.

"First names are a privilege for family. I prefer surnames," he replied coldly. He turned to face the younger boy and almost fell over in shock to see The Eyes staring up at him. They belonged to a _boy_. He was suddenly at a loss for words.

Hummel leaned in. "And I prefer first names." He winked. "Mr. Malfoy." He walked off to join Jones, leaving the older boy trying to collect himself.

Forty-five minutes later, Kurt strutted into the food court and saw Malfoy at a table by the fountain. Malfoy was enjoying himself listening to songs that he had magically downloaded off iTunes from nearby laptops.

"Draco?" The blond boy was too busy banging his head to the music to notice. Kurt chuckled to himself. It was nice to see Mr. First-names-are-a-privilege let his guard down for a second. "Draco?" Still no response. Suddenly it occurred to Kurt that he might not be used to his first name at all. "Malfoy?"

The boy shot to attention immediately. "Sorry, what?"

Kurt slid into the seat across from him. "I just wanted to alert you to my presence, that's all. The girls decided to look at dresses. Not really my thing. How do you already have music on that?"

Malfoy shrugged it off. "Sample songs."

Kurt paused. "I didn't think iPods came with…" He looked across the table suspiciously.

Malfoy raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I can't just pull songs out of mid-air."

"Ooh, what's that?" Before Malfoy could stop him, Kurt had grabbed his left arm and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark on his forearm. "That is one cool tattoo. That's funny, I wouldn't have pinned you down as a tattoo type at all." He was still holding Malfoy's arm, and it was getting a little uncomfortable. "How'd you get it to look like it's moving? That's impressive." He squeezed his arm before letting go, pressing against the Mark, and Malfoy's whole body shuddered. Next thing he knew, his left forearm felt like it was on fire. He was losing focus of the boy in front of him, babbling on as if nothing were wrong.

"I have to go," Malfoy blurted out, and ran outside. It had started to rain, but the water running down his arm aggravated it, rather than calming it. He was such an idiot! Why hadn't he been more careful?

"_Malfoy, get up! We're relocating!" Weasley grabbed his arm to pull him out of bed. His body burned, and they found themselves surrounded by Death Eaters._

Whenever they found themselves anywhere safe, he had to go and mess it up.

_He lay limply in Neville's arms._

"_We can't move," Neville was saying. "Malfoy's way too weak to Apparate in this state."_

"_He can manage Side-Along Apparation," Hermione said, and grabbed his left arm without thinking. A hooded man grabbed her by the hair and yelled, "CRUCIO!"_

He slumped against the wall, his head in his hands. This couldn't happen again.

"_Listen to me," Mrs. Weasley said. "You're not allowed to call anyone the M-word in my house you hear me?" She grabbed his arm._ "Do you hear me?" _There was a crash as a curse hit the wall just behind, narrowly missing her._

"Crying, Malfoy? Didn't think you had it in you."

He looked up to meet the eyes of Blaise Zabini, a tall boy from his year at Hogwarts who had joined the Death Eaters during seventh year. The two had never been close, but they had been on friendly terms. Beside Zabini was a pretty, delicate looking girl. She was probably about five feet tall and didn't look strong enough to take a six-year-old. Malfoy almost cried in relief. He had been expecting a brute force.

"If you guys are trying to kill me," he laughed, "you should work out first. I'd probably take _both_ of you."

"We're not here to kill you," the girl said impatiently. "But if I were you, I wouldn't make empty threats like that."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

"How old are you, anyway? You look like you're thirteen."

"I'm seventeen, actually," she said, looking him square in the eye. "Just because I'm short, doesn't make me a kid. Although, I guess to you I'll always be Daphne's kid sister. Remember? You got my sister drunk, took her virginity, and hexed her boyfriend? And then I maimed you so badly you were in the hospital wing for a week?" She crossed her arms. "Coming back to you now?"

He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Of course he recognized her now. She had died her blonde hair black and swapped her ripped, baggy T-shirts for a floral dress, but he was an idiot for not seeing it before. "Astoria, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in school?" he taunted, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

In one swift motion, she pushed Zabini aside and pinned Malfoy against the wall.

"That's Greengrass to you," she spat at him. "You don't have the right to use my first name, you untrustworthy, rapist, little…"

"Astoria! We're supposed to be staying low, don't kill him in front of a Muggle shopping mall!"

She let go, letting him slump to the ground. "Right. Sorry." She smiled sweetly at Malfoy. "Want to get a slice of pizza? Blaise has a proposition for you."

Yup. They sent the brute squad.

Malfoy sipped his coffee. "So let me get this straight. You're telling me you'll let everyone go – even the Mudblood – if I give you Potter? Why would I agree to that?"

"Because," Zabini replied, "we can make _you_ Potter."

"I don't think I follow."

"Put it this way," Greengrass said. "We attack the whole group, do what Death Eaters do, they fight back, do what idiotic heroes do. They weren't expecting an attack in this safe, boring little hidey-hole of yours, so they start to lose. Suddenly, just when everyone is thinking that death is on the line for sure, Draco Malfoy shows up and saves the day. Unfortunately, he is unable to save Potter, but everyone else is alive and our small Death Eater army is weak. We surrender; you become the hero you've always wanted to be. We tell the press sad stories about how we were mistreated as children and brainwashed into this, and how we've finally realized our mistakes. We donate to a few charities, you're a hero, we all become everyone's favorite rehabilitated criminals. It's a win-win situation."

Malfoy stared. "Wait, so this whole time, you've only wanted Potter? You're not trying to follow in the Dark Lord's footsteps?"

Greengrass shrugged. "I mean, originally, we wanted world domination, but that wasn't really working out. Next, we tried to kill all of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix, but that wasn't really working out, either. So then we decided that we only really needed to kill you seven, but, apparently we couldn't even manage that, considering you're all still alive. Then Zabini here pointed out that if we could make something in it for you, we could become loved after this is all over, instead of landing ourselves in Azkaban, so we're settling for killing Harry Potter and gaining loving fans."

Malfoy shook his head in disbelief. "Why would I agree to this?"

Zabini smiled at him, none of it reaching his eyes. "You've always been jealous of Potter. That's why you hate him so much. He was always better than you. People loved him for his success and his goodness; people only really loved your money and good looks. His friends are smart, loyal, and brave; Crabbe and Goyle only really followed you because they'd get lost if they didn't. You knew Dumbledore's side would never appreciate you, so you bit off more than you could chew to gain approval. You tried to kill the great man himself. Tried and failed, I might say. One year later, Harry Potter became Master of Death and killed the Dark Lord using Expelliarmus. People swarmed around him, hailing him as their Savior, while you and your parents huddled in the corner, not even knowing if you were on his side or not. I think it's fair to say you're a little in the shadows."

Malfoy was stunned. He had never heard Zabini say so much at once, not to mention it was all true. He _was_ jealous of Potter, and Zabini hadn't even _touched_ on Mr. Perfect's Quidditch skills. He thought about what this would mean. A battle rigged to make _him_, Draco Malfoy, a hero in everyone's eyes. He would stand tall, weakening the enemy – but he wouldn't kill them, because he was merciful and willing to give them a second chance, like the one he'd been given. He would comfort Potter's friends and become their new emblem. Maybe he'd even get a chance at Potter's girlfriend – Weasley or not, she was gorgeous. A new future flew before his eyes.

He grabbed Zabini's hand and shook. "I'll do it."


	7. Invisible

Rachel fumed all the way home. How DARE Mr. Schuester give Hermione that solo? How dare he humiliate her like that? She ignored everything Hermione said on the walk back, until she heard the older girl mention that she was leaving soon to go to a movie with Harry and Ron, and that she probably wouldn't come back for a while.

Perfect.

The moment Hermione left the house, Rachel rushed up to the guest room. There must be something in here. No one had a perfectly clean record, not even Ms. I'm-Perfect-and-Smart-and-British-and-I-Can-Sing-Better-Than-Rachel-Even-Though-My-Hair-Muffles-It Granger. If you knew how to look, EVERYONE had potential blackmail sitting in plain sight. The best place to start was the desk. You could never tell what was hidden in a pile of papers. As she ruffled through Hermione's sheet music and short stories, she accidentally knocked Hermione's handbag off the table. It fell to the ground with a clunk, and the contents of the bag clattered around loudly. Rachel turned around, panicked. What if something broke? The next instant, she was on the ground, mystified, inspecting the purse she had knocked over. It was small enough to fit into her palm. She picked it up – it was heavier than it should have been – and reached inside. She gasped and drew her hand back out, slightly terrified. The bag was bigger on the inside. This shouldn't be actually happening! She felt like a Doctor Who companion, except a purse would make an awful spaceship. She put her hand back in warily and felt around. Her hand clamped on something silky. She pulled out what looked like a cloak. It was full of shimmering colors, and yet it was almost… not there. She spread it out over her knees to inspect it, but when she looked down, her knees were… gone.

Freaking out, she pushed the cloak off. As it fell off, both it and her knees rematerialized. She picked it up and put it on, looking into the full-length mirror. Sure enough, her whole body except for her head was invisible. Weird.

Suddenly, she heard Hermione's voice. "You stay downstairs, Ron, I'll be right back." Rachel pulled the hood up over her face, making herself completely invisible. Hermione walked in and looked around frantically. "Where is that purse?" she muttered to herself. Rachel held her breath, realizing she was still clenching the purse in her hand. Hermione pulled a wooden stick out of her pocket and waved it in the air. "Accio Handbag!" she yelled. A spark flew out of the stick and the purse was yanked out of Rachel's hand towards the spark. Hermione looked surprised, but it didn't seem to be about the flying handbag. She caught it as if she were accustomed to summoning her belongings this way and walked toward Rachel. She pulled her wand out again. "Hominem Revelio." she whispered. Rachel gasped. A cold sensation spread from her head to her toes. "Accio Invisibility Cloak!" Rachel made a desperate grab at the cloak, but Hermione snatched it out of the air.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Hermione asked, angrily. Rachel didn't like seeing Hermione angry. Not only was it intimidating, but Rachel was starting to wonder what else she could do with that stick. "Well?" Hermione crossed her arms. Rachel was starting to feel very nervous.

"Your handbag is a TARDIS and you can do magic." she blurted out. "What's going on here?"

Hermione sighed. "I really don't want to do this, Rachel." She raised her stick. "Obl—"

"Wait!" Rachel screwed up her eyes and covered her nose with her hands. "Avoid my nose." She waited, but nothing happened. She looked up. Hermione was sitting on the bed, smiling. She patted the spot next to her, indicating for Rachel to sit down.

"I suppose you have a right to know," said Hermione. "After all, your father Martin _is_ a wizard. Ron!" she called down the stairs. "Don't wait for me. I'm not coming."

So Hermione told Rachel all about the wizarding world. She told her about her time at Hogwarts and about their battle against Voldemort. She told her about Horcruxes and Deathly Hallows. She told her about the D.A. and the Order of the Phoenix. She even told her about Dobby and Time-Turners. It was really nice to tell the whole story from the beginning and get all the good and bad memories off her chest. She spoke for three hours straight, until she couldn't talk any more. When she finished, she looked up and met Rachel's eyes.

Rachel stared back wide-eyed. "Wow. Not only was that an amazing story, but I actually listened to someone for more than twenty seconds."

Hermione laughed. "Do you believe me?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't see why I shouldn't."

Hermione grabbed Rachel's wrist and looked her in the eye. "Well, that's the problem. Most people wouldn't believe, and they'd have us shut up. The ones that would believe would try to show us off like circus clowns. So you have to promise you won't tell. Promise?"

Rachel said nothing. Hermione's grip tightened.

"Promise me, Rachel, or I'll have to take your memory away, and I don't want to do that. I don't know how to give memories back. I tried to fix my parents and ended up taking their memories away even more. They don't even remember each other now."

Rachel faltered for a moment, thinking about how awful it would be if her dads lost their memories, but she had to stay strong. She jumped up.

"I promise I won't tell…" Hermione smiled and lay back on the bed.. "IF."

Hermione shot back up. "If what?"

Rachel smiled. "I promise I won't tell if you promise to quit the Glee Club."

Hermione frowned. "But Emma said that she needed to keep an eye on me."

"Honestly, Hermione, if you're telling the truth, my father is a wizard. What could happen?"

"But… I like to sing. I like the kids in Glee."

"Yes," said Rachel sincerely. "I know you like to sing. But as long as you're in Glee Club, I'm not a star. You've got something else to live for. I don't. I'm alone at the top. You're… equal to the others, you just have a better voice than them. You can live without stardom. Can't you see the difference?"

Hermione stared at her, eyebrows raised. "Do you always talk like that?"

"Yes?"

"Well, it's a little annoying. Maybe that's why you're alone." Hermione grabbed her handbag. "Fine. I quit. I'm going to find Ron." She disappeared with a little popping noise into thin air, leaving Rachel in the empty guest room.


	8. Author's Note 2

Dear readers,

I haven't updated in over a year and I'm sorry… mostly because I'm no longer really a Glee fan. However, going back to read this story, I realized that I had something good going here and I should finish it up (because it is, after all, set at a point in the show where I still care about the characters). And then my computer died. So, as soon as those files are recovered, I shall be reposting and attempting to complete this story in my new account, GreenFyre.

Thanks and sorry for the loooong delay.

(On the plus side, a year of boarding school education has hopefully made me a better writer, so the story will finish in quality.)


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